


Pulling At The Strings

by Snow



Category: Sherlock (TV)
Genre: Friendship, Gen, Texting, impersonating Mycroft
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2010-09-10
Updated: 2010-09-10
Packaged: 2017-10-11 15:56:42
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 618
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/114101
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Snow/pseuds/Snow
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p><em>So Sally gave Anderson a blow job because he was lonely and desperate and because she thought it might make him feel guilty and then he would go back to his wife. It doesn't work that way, obviously.</em></p><p>This fic is mostly, honestly, the exchange of a series of texts between Sally and Sherlock.</p><p>Inspired by Missy Higgins' Steer.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Pulling At The Strings

Anderson's marriage is splintering around him, and maybe, yes, there is a part of Sally that can't think of the word _divorce_ without thinking of how it ripped her parents apart, brought them both far too close to an edge that no one should ever fall over. At least, before the divorce, when they were _appallingly codependent_ as one marriage counsellor told them in words that Sally's mother later flung at her father, well. At least then they had had each other.

So Sally gave Anderson a blow job because he was lonely and desperate and because she thought it might make him feel _guilty_ and then he would go back to his wife.

It doesn't work that way, obviously. Sally is reasonably certain that she didn't make things worse, but as Anderson wouldn't be collapsed drunk on her sofa if she had made things _better_, that isn't much consolation.

Sally shakes his shoulder in an attempt to rouse him, but he's too far gone. She shouldn't have let him have that fourth shot, but he's not her _responsibility_ and there's only so much she can do to limit the damage he's intent on doing to himself.

* * *

In the morning, she wakes before he does. Sally checks his phone, having decided herself entitled. She needs to know if there are any messages from his wife, because then she'll know whether to wake him or let him wake himself. There aren't, but Sally hadn't really expected anything else.

Sally is halfway through the only message Anderson did receive last night before she sees the "SH" at the bottom. At that point the signature is redundant: the text is typical Sherlock, giving more details than necessary to prove how clever he is. It ends with a veiled reference to the fact that a crick in the neck is inevitable whether Anderson spends the night on his own sofa or on Sally's.

Sally deletes the message and responds from her own phone. She and Sherlock are a little like friends and a lot not like friends. "As amused as you are by the...look of your own words, I somehow don't think you're ever going to be the most helpful person for Anderson." Sally signs the text "MH" because having met Sherlock's brother she can't not.

Sherlock's reply is swift, and Sally would know that to be a sure sign he's bored except that the fact that he sent a text to Anderson in the first place is evidence enough of _that_. "Socially incompetent as I may be, even I can tell you're not my brother. Why haven't you kicked Anderson out yet? SH."

"R u tryin to dfend my honour? M doin nice thing 4 friend. MH."

"'Are you trying to defend my honour? I am doing a nice thing for a friend. Sally.' SH."

Sally grins as she goes about setting up the coffee. She loves that as much as Sherlock hates being predictable there are some things he can't help it on. She hasn't even decided whether or not she's going to respond when her phone chimes again.

"And you know full well that I expect you to defend your own bloody honour. You're not coming into work today, are you? SH."

"No. Not that it matters to you, as you aren't either. MH."

"Good. You're always so much more irritable after you've spent too much time with Anderson. And any time is too much time where he's concerned. SH."

Anderson is stirring as the smell of coffee fills Sally's flat, and she knows she should wrap up this little game.

"Your flatmate's a freak," she sends to John, "Sally."

He doesn't reply by the time Anderson leaves.

**Author's Note:**

> I welcome and appreciate comments, including constructive criticism.


End file.
